The First Priestess
by Sephira Netzach
Summary: *Chapter 5 up* Prequel to my as-yet unfinished fic, Priestess of the Guado. Fills in all the little details I rather *purposely* left out of Priestess of the Guado. R/R appreciated.
1. Family Reunion

Author's Note: Whee! New story for Sephira-chan! Eventually this'll tie in to my as-yet-unfinished fic, Priestess of the Guado. Go and have a look- see if you want.  
  
---***---  
  
The ocean spray tickled his face and settled on his eyelashes and eyebrows as the boat nosed into Bevelle Harbor. It was a foggy, overcast day; the chill wind blew right off the ocean, filling the sails of the frigate, the bow of which he stood on. It shoved the backs of his fine robes against his legs and the backs of his arms, and mussed the fine blue hair that he had spent a lot of time getting into place that morning. Irritated, he shoved the offending hair behind his ear for later adjustment, and kept his head high.  
  
The spires of the Palace of St. Bevelle were hidden in the mists, and seemed to go on into the heavens. They were even taller than they had looked when he had emerged from his cabin that morning and the deck hand had pointed them out. Now they were docking; sailors tossed ropes as thick around as his arm to people on the pier. The robes were as deftly caught as thrown, and soon the frigate Siren was docked at Bevelle, and for the first time in all fifteen years of his life, Seymour de Jyscal Guado stepped onto the mainland.  
  
Having been brought up on a tiny, desolate island called Baaj, Seymour was naturally fascinated with all the sights and sounds that his escort tried to rush him past; the normal sounds of an active wharf that normally no one would have had any second glances to. Looking down over the edge of the pier into the deep green water, he saw seals passing under them, diving for the scraps of fish that fishermen tossed off after cleaning. A vehement tug from his bodyguard kept him moving. Grumbling a little - the guard had pulled a little too hard - Seymour kept on moving down the pier.  
  
At the end of the long wooden structure, a man with such similar characteristics that Seymour did not doubt for a second who he was, waited. His robes were ornate; embroidered with various holy signs. Nervous, Seymour stood a little distance off from his father, unsure of what to do. To his relief, Lord Jyscal de Fathi Guado motioned to his son.  
  
"Come now, I'm not going to bite. Let me have a look at you."  
  
Seymour moved a few steps closer and stopped again. Jyscal went in a full circle around him. "You are your mother's son," he said at last, a little sadly. "Yes.she died."  
  
"This Midsummer past," Seymour finished a little more stiffly than he'd intended to. Lord Jyscal nodded.  
  
"Very well. You are to finish your formative years in my ward; however, you will be here in Bevelle, at the Palace School - "  
  
Seymour blinked. "What?"  
  
"Of course you cannot stay in Guadosalam with me. If the Guado knew that I had a son with a human woman, they would never convert to Yevon and would be no better than those Al Bhed heathens."  
  
Seymour contained his high-handed nature and nodded. The angry serpent (for that was how he imagined his rage, as a serpent) reluctantly coiled back down - for now. Seymour pretended to be happy as he received gifts from those who knew - a warrior with a red coat, and a man named Braska and his wife, Usoa. Seymour listened to their silly prattle about how much they prayed for a child, endured the good-natured teasing that he would one day be unable to keep the ladies away, and instead turned his thoughts inward.  
  
As he was on his way out of the last store that Jyscal said they'd need to visit to "properly" outfit Seymour for city life, someone tapped him on the shoulder. Turning around, Seymour's lavender-blue eyes met crystalline blue ones, so light they appeared gray. A boy about his age was standing behind him. The boy already had an ear-length, shaggy head of hair that hung roguishly in his eyes. Girls passing them by looked appreciatively at Seymour and at the boy's muscle structure.  
  
"You're Seymour Guado."  
  
Seymour stiffened. "So what if I am?"  
  
The boy extended a hand. "I am Aubrey Braeden. I heard you'll be attending school at the Palace."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Right. I'll see you there, Seymour Guado." Aubrey touched his forehead and spun round, disappearing into the swarm of people in the store. Seymour blinked, then hurried to catch up with his escort.  
  
Still watching the young man, Aubrey's eyes flashed red, and he smirked. 


	2. New Summer Housing

Author's Notes: Depending on how well this is received, I'll keep at it. Maybe I will anyway; Priestess is starting to creep me out a little. Methinks me needs a little break, and new music to type by. Don't worry, I won't drop it completely, I have the next few chapters written, so when it does update, expect at least two chapters to be up.  
  
---***---  
  
Seymour sat in the Headmaster's office, sulking and gingerly touching the bruises on his face. He was in for fighting, and the Headmaster was now rifling through Seymour's teacher's reports on his conduct in class and trying to look important. Seymour hated this man with a passion, and it was partly due to that fact that he was in here today. He had come up with the perfect plan to give the Headmaster his comeuppance. He just hoped that they did everything on schedule.  
  
Headmaster Brody finally lowered the papers, folded his hands on top of them fastidiously, and looked condescendingly at Seymour, who glared right back. As Headmaster Brody was one to flaunt that his family was pure human, with no taint or tinge of Al Bhed or Guado blood, the fact that Seymour was here at his school irked him endlessly. Seymour had left the school only once, in fact, in the three years that he'd been here, to see Braska and Usoa's second child, a daughter named Ariane. Their five-year- old daughter Yuna had been there, as well.  
  
-*- Flashback -*-  
  
More than a little irritated at being pulled away from the thing he found he was moderatly gifted at, Seymour walked beside his father down the long hallway in Braska's mansion in Bevelle. Outside the door to the older man's room, Jyscal paused and placed a hand on Seymour's shoulder.  
  
"Let me go in first, Seymour," he said. "There is something that I must speak to Braska about."  
  
So Seymour trudged back to the formal sitting room, flopping gracelessly on one of the comfortable overstuffed pieces of furniture and tilting his head back. Hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep, something had had been precious to him after coming to school, Seymour closed his eyes.  
  
A very small, dainty sniffling noise caused him to reopen his eyes. And look right into a pair of mismatched, teary-red eyes- one green, one blue.  
  
Seymour sat up and turned around on the couch, folding his arms and placing his chin on them, at eye level with the little brunette girl whom was very prettily crying behind the couch. "Hullo," he said. "Who're you?"  
  
To his surprise, she glared at him. "Come to fawn over my little sister?" she snapped.  
  
Seymour blinked; he hadn't expected such harsh tones out of such a fairylike little girl. She was wearing a blue dress embroidered with flowers and soft-looking shoes of the same color. "I'm sorry," he said. "My father, Lord Jyscal, wanted to go in and speak with Braska alone. I'm Seymour Guado."  
  
The little girl warily came around and sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. "I'm Yuna."  
  
Seymour smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way. "You must be unhappy with all the attention going to your sister."  
  
Yuna sniffled again and wiped her eyes. "Yes."  
  
He felt curiously gentle; moving down along the couch, Seymour reached out with a hand tipped with long nails and hugged little Yuna. "I'm sorry. You need to cry, you can cry all you want. I don't mind."  
  
"I'll get your robes all wet."  
  
Seymour smiled. "I don't mind."  
  
-*-End Flashback -*-  
  
Headmaster Brody was clearly remembering Seymour's parentage as well, because he said, "Seymour, here at the Palace School of St. Bevelle, we do not consider one's parents to be of any importance. We place more levity on academia and conduct." And he stressed 'conduct.'  
  
Of course you don't consider my Maester father of any importance, Seymour thought sarcastically. "Really, Headmaster."  
  
"Yes. And as you are well aware, Seymour, we do not allow fighting at our school. Detention for a week, Seymour, and let this firmly imprint upon you that your behavior here is always - bloody hell!"  
  
The papers on his desk had burst into flame. Glancing up, Seymour saw his friend Lulu Konane crawling swiftly back through the system that brought heat in the winter. Since it was summer now, the ducts were unused, but perfect to Seymour's plan. Using a bit of the magic he'd learned while in isolation on Baaj, Seymour cast a Watera spell and put out the flames. Headmaster Brody looked at him with an expression that was a mix of thankfulness, anger, and fear.  
  
"Thank you, Seymour. For that I might find it in my heart to shave off a few days from your punishment.."  
  
Seymour smiled icily. "Thank you, Headmaster."  
  
---***---  
  
At the end of the official school year, when everyone was packing to scatter to their homes across the high-end neighborhoods of Spira's great cities, Seymour stood amist his packed bags, wondering where he would go. His roommate, a humor-loving boy named Felix, had already left earlier that day.  
  
Someone knocked on the door of his dormitory, and Seymour moved over his bags to the door with the grace of a ballet dancer, and opened it. Braska stood there; he was dressed for a journey, long robes belted with a wide belt over a muscled body. Little known was it that Braska had once played for the Besaid Aurochs, early in his teenage years. Now into his early thirties, he was an official summoner and, apparently ready to go on his own pilgrimage.  
  
"Hello, Seymour," he said cheerfully. Seymour had always liked Braska because he was such a counterpoint to Seymour's own father. The older man briefly embraced Seymour, then stepped back. "If you don't mind, Seymour.I want you to stay with Usoa, Yuna, and Ariane. Usoa could use the help, and Yuna hasn't stopped talking about you." Braska's eyes glinted. "I think she's besotted." Seymour laughed - Yuna was eleven years younger than he, from what he'd last heard a sturdy-but-dainty eight year old, and yet he felt something the same towards her. He was sure that she would grow to be a great woman someday.  
  
Braska's mansion was only a little way down the street from the Palace; as he preferred not to put on airs, Braska himself drove the chocobo-drawn town cart to the comfortable-looking residence. Just inside the gate, away from the small courtyard, the gardens grew emerald-green and bright. Braska jumped agilely out of the cart and opened the door, grabbing one of Seymour's bags on the way there. "Usoa!" he called. "We're here!"  
  
Usoa, carrying baby Ariane (who was sucking on the corner of her blanket) greeted her husband with a kiss, and smiled at Seymour, peering up at his face. "You've grown in the past three years. Great Yevon, but you're sky- high! You'll be as tall as Braska I'll wager, and probably taller. I 'spect you're all bones right now?" Usoa spoke in her Kilika-accented speech when important company was not present, and Seymour found it much more comfortable that way. Fetching the rest of his bags, Seymour suppressed a laugh as Usoa admonished three-year-old Ariane for chewing on that nasty blanket.  
  
Declining offers of help, Seymour took his things up to the room he'd be staying in and, ever an organized soul, put things neatly away while pretending not to notice to pair of eyes gleaming at him from behind the en- suite wash room door. Finally, when she could no longer stand it, Yuna popped out from behind the door. "Boo!"  
  
Seymour made a big show of jumping in surprise. "Yuna! You scared me."  
  
She grinned playfully up at him; she was missing two teeth, and had obviously taken some pains with her appearance. She was wearing a pretty pink dress, and had washed and braided her hair, tying it with a pink ribbon. "Hi, Seymour!"  
  
He bent down and accepted the half-stranglehold, half-bear hug that she gave him. "You've grown up, Yuna."  
  
Bouncing back down, she grinned wider, if that was possible. "You're tall."  
  
Seymour laughed and held his hand out for her to take, if she wished. "I know. But I smell dinner, and I'm hun-gry." They went down to dinner together, and Seymour ended up spending the evening playing with Yuna and Ariane, who found it immensely fun to pull on the little tail of hair that hung down his back. Finally, long after the sun had set, Usoa announced to everyone that it was time for bed, and nagged Braska until he did get up and take Ariane to her room and then headed him off to theirs. Seymour was left to get a sleeping Yuna upstairs and into her own bed, carefully tucking the small girl in and kissing her on the forehead. "Good night, Yuna," he said softly, then made his way to his own room and collapsed onto his bed, asleep within seconds. 


	3. Midwinter

Author's Notes: A big thank you to all who've reviewed. ^.^ You keep up my will to write!  
  
---***---  
  
The next week brought Seymour's nineteenth birthday; he received so much attention from family and friends that he hadn't the time to play with Yuna and Ariane that he'd promised. Yuna went around sulking. In apology, Seymour got Yuna a little necklace with three little silver balls hanging from it; she insisted on wearing it the second she unwrapped it. For his birthday she had given him a little bracelet she had made herself. He wore it every day.  
  
After that month, the weather got hot. Seymour's days were filled with trips to the beach and the cooler air of the woods. Braska set off on his pilgrimage with his friends Auron de Kadin and a newcomer, Jecht de Lilith. Jecht was a blitzer, and Usoa warned Yuna off him and his rough-cut good looks - not that she'd needed to. It was more of a motherly thing than anything else; Yuna had her heart set on Seymour, and for all of the eleven years he had on her, he felt much the same way.  
  
School began again in the fall; Yuna, wearing very pretty earth tones, insisted on riding in the chocobo cart with Usoa and Seymour to the Palace School gates. When he'd given her a last hug and promised her he'd visit as often as he could and write when he couldn't, and pulled the last of his bags off the cart, she stood in the seat of the cart and waved, crying quietly. He watched them weave through the crowd from his dormitory. Behind him, Felix was dreamily unpacking his own bags; Felix was a tanned youth from Luca, the only son of a wealthy family who wanted him to take over the clan's hold on the blitzball concession stands. Felix would have rather been a blitzer, but his parents wouldn't permit it.  
  
That makes two of us, Seymour thought unhappily. I want to go back to Braska's mansion.  
  
Braska; where was he on his pilgrimage now? Seymour devoutly hoped that Braska would be the one to defeat Sin; though it would deprive his family of his exuberant boyishness, Seymour couldn't think of a better man for it.  
  
"Hey, Seymour.what kind of trouble are we going to raise this year, eh?" Felix asked, abandoning the clothes he'd been trying to fit into the chest of drawers at the foot of his bed. Seymour turned from the window and grinned.  
  
"Well, Felix, I was planning over the summer and here's what I've gotten."  
  
---***---  
  
Midwinter Festivals in Bevelle were not to be missed; so instead of staying in and working like he had the last years Seymour bundled up against the chill and left the school after scrawling a vague note on the board outside his dormitory that he was going to the Festival. The streets seemed full of laughing families and couples hand in hand; Seymour kept his head down and followed the flow of the crowd. He peeled off, however, at a mansion with a festive wreath of evergreens on the gate. Knocking on the door, he smiled down at the wobbly four-year-old than answered.  
  
"Hullo, Ariane," he said with a smile. "Having a good Midwinter?"  
  
She nodded, her green eyes wide and one finger in her mouth. Seymour knelt down to eye level. "Is your mother here?"  
  
Ariane scampered off, presumably to get Usoa, and Seymour came in and shut the door. It was warm inside the foyer, and Seymour took off his gloves and hat.  
  
Having heard his voice, Yuna came running and leapt at him, driving him back into the door while attaching firmly to his neck. "Seymour!"  
  
Grinning, Seymour returned Yuna's enthusiastic embrace and set her back down on the floor. "How's your Midwinter?"  
  
She bobbed up and down in an ecstasy. "Great! Daddy sent me a sphere from Kilika - that's where he is now - along with my very own staff!" She ran off up the stairs to get it and returned with a blue staff tipped with an intricate top piece. "Isn't it pretty?"  
  
Seymour nodded. "It's beautiful, just like you."  
  
Yuna blushed, and then lowered her staff as Usoa came in with Ariane in tow. "Mommy mommy, Seymour's here!"  
  
"I can see that Yuna." She looked up, smiling, to Seymour. He was struck by how much older she looked; Usoa was in the middle of her third decade, a vivacious woman if ever there was one, but she loved her husband dearly. Braska's absence was taking its toll on her. "She's been after me to invite you to come with us to the Midwinter Festival. If you hadn't come on your own then we would have come and gotten you. No, Ari, you have to wear your coat."  
  
The little girl's lower lip trembled, and as Usoa appeared at her wit's end with the little girl, Seymour picked her up, looking at her with the same serious stare she gave him. "Ariane, you want to go to the Festival right?"  
  
She nodded. Seymour continued, "But you don't want to be sick when your daddy comes home, do you?" Ariane shook her head vehemently. With Usoa looking at him goggle-eyed, he managed to persuade Ariane to put on her gray coat and smiled at her when she finished. "Good girl, Ari."  
  
Usoa picked her up again. "I don't know how you do it, Seymour."  
  
Seymour didn't know either; but that thought was lost as Yuna grabbed his hand and dragged him out the door and down the street to the Festival Green. Music, smells, and sights demanded his senses' attentions all at once. Usoa gave him an exorbitant amount of gil to "go have fun with," and so Seymour and Yuna set off.  
  
"So many things to do!" Yuna cried happily. She wasn't far off; they spent half the gil they had playing various games; Yuna won a prize for a ring- toss game, and together they guessed the number of spheres in a large jar that was almost as tall as Yuna. Ravenous, Yuna (being the one with the sharper nose) found a stand selling food from all over Spira. They paid for the food, and Seymour cleared off a section of a wall for them to sit on. Yuna, with her fuzzy blue hat and coat, and her mismatched eyes looked very cute against the pure white background. Some of Seymour's friends from the school spotted him and headed over; Felix was one of them (he'd purchased some fireworks, and displayed them to all with a look of mischievous glee), and Seymour didn't hesitate in introducing Yuna to him, Lulu, Maddock, and Leon. Despite they were all a good eleven or twelve years her elders, Yuna kept up with the conversation, but asked a couple very searching questions that Seymour said he'd answer when she was older.  
  
They also saw Aubrey there; he was five levels below Seymour, and he made a show of greeting Yuna as befit her station - or so he said. Seymour didn't trust him, with his pale hair and pristine blue eyes. Or maybe it was the occasional hint of red that flashed in the same eyes that cast charming looks at the ladies of his level, and above. Or the little scornful sneer from a mouth that could smile so prettily at a flirting young woman - well, whatever the case, Seymour glared at him until he left. Felix came back after that, twirled Yuna around in the air and gave her a little trinket he'd won.  
  
"So was that Aubrey?" He asked while Yuna was busy constructing a snowman. "You should stay away from him, man. He's been spreadin' all these things about you - mostly that you're a child molester."  
  
Seymour snorted. "Aubrey's just arrogant and annoyed that the prettiest girl in Bevelle has eyes for me only."  
  
Felix raised a blond eyebrow. "Say what you want, Seymour, but I'd be careful if I were you, ya?"  
  
Night fell; they found Usoa and Ariane 'playing' in the snow. Ariane was tossing snow up in the air and giggling; she threw some at Seymour and giggled some more. Yuna snuggled between Seymour and her mother on the cleared flagstone. Many other groups of people were around them, laughing and chattering. Eventually the fireworks started, and even after that, late at night when Ariane had long since crawled into her mother's lap and curled up, and Yuna fallen asleep against Seymour's shoulder, the Festival Green was filled to burst with lights, laughter, and people.  
  
---***---  
  
Term started again a week after the Festival. Once more the Palace was filled with the pleasant murmur of students hard at work. As exiting exams were coming frightfully fast for Seymour's level, most of his classmates were to be found in the library, reading up on the History of the Temples, or reciting the duties of a summoner - generally preparing for whatever they thought that the teachers would throw at them. Maddock, the studious one of Seymour's group of friends, nearly had a nervous breakdown and had to spend a few nights in the infirmary.  
  
It was then that the trouble with Aubrey started. 


	4. Explosions and Misgivings

Author's Note: Must..have new music for listens..need..blah. Sorry, it's just that, as good as the soundtrack for "The Two Towers" is, after fifteen or twenty listens, it gets a little old. As on Priestess, sorry for the wait.  
  
---***---  
  
It started out small; snide comments by Aubrey's entourage as Seymour's group and Aubrey's group passed in the hallways. Minor scuffles that required a low-level Cure spell to clean up. Nothing terribly catastrophic - until the week before exiting exams.  
  
It was raining hard that day. A thunderstorm had blown in from Macalania and the pulses of lightning were at that moment frightening little Yuna to the point where she was begging her mother to take her to go visit Seymour. Her mother finally complied and put Ariane to bed, tugging her coat on halfheartedly and bravely venturing out with Yuna.  
  
Seymour and Felix left the cafeteria, laughing at a joke that they'd heard inside. Being popular boys, they had been called over by a group on the school's blitz team, and had stayed a bit longer than they'd intended to. After all, they had wanted to go back to their room and gloat over their successful needling of Aubrey, who was normally so cool.  
  
"Didja see the look on his face?" Felix was saying between gales of laughter. "He looked ready to spit!"  
  
Seymour was laughing hard as he opened his door - and stopped abruptly. Something was wrong; someone was in the room that shouldn't be. It was pitch black in the shadows, and the weak Fire spell that Felix cast did little to the fireplace but cause a log to glow.  
  
He lit the fireplace in the room with a well-aimed Fira spell, then took up his staff and crept forward towards the washroom. Felix grimly picked up the twin daggers he'd picked out as his weapon of choice, and readied them for throwing. Seymour pressed his ear against the door, listening carefully, then with a nod, he kicked the door down.  
  
The room exploded.  
  
Seymour was tossed against the fair wall, tiny flames singing his hair and burning his sensitive skin. He cried out as a second explosion rocked the entire east wing of the dormitory, and through a haze, Seymour saw Felix get tossed to the floor too; and a great shadow passed over him. Seymour fell into a deep black hole, clawing his way up the sides but failing.  
  
Felix, thankfully, had been spared by the explosion and was getting to his feet when several people burst in, the first of which was Lulu. She looked at him and clicked her tongue grumpily, and then cast a Blizzard spell that took out half the flames in the room. The next person to arrive was Yuna, who had insisted on going into the wing despite the loud (and completely justified) protests of her horrified mother. She brandished her staff and said "Cure!"  
  
A white light glowed around Felix and he stood. "Seymour!" he said over the roar of the flames, pointing to the prone form laying against the wall. Blood covered most of Seymour's face, already beginning to dry in places from the heat that still radiated from the charred floorboards and beds. Lulu ran over and cast a Water spell to wash the blood off, then examined the slash on his forehead that had been caused by him being thrown back.  
  
"He'll need stitches," Lulu said, "Unless your Cure spell is up to snuff."  
  
Yuna nodded, then waved her staff again and the white light glowed around Seymour, then was absorbed into his body. The slash healed somewhat, but it took two more castings of Cure to get it to fade completely. Yuna knelt by Seymour, tears streaking her face. "Is he gonna be okay?"  
  
Lulu looked the half-human over again. "He should be fine. But he needs the calm of the infirmary."  
  
"I say! Let me in!"  
  
Lulu looked up angrily to where Headmaster Brody was shoving through the excited crowd; people were standing on tiptoe to see over the other's heads in front of them. He pushed to the front and stood, horrified, in the scorched frame. "What happened here?!"  
  
Lulu shrugged. "Explosion."  
  
Brody turned around in a circle, his watery greenish eyes widening as he surveyed the wreckage of the room. "How is this possible?!"  
  
Again Lulu shrugged. "Something stronger than magic. Maybe a high-level Ultima spell." But it's fire."  
  
Headmaster Brody shooed all the morbidly fascinated students off and ordered that Seymour be brought to the infirmary. He cast a look at Felix and directed him to a new dormitory room, leaving Yuna and Lulu in the room. They exchanged a glance; then both took off after the nurses bearing Seymour to the infirmary. They caught up just after they'd laid him on a bed; his skin, despite the spells, was horribly charred and his hair was blackened for almost an inch. Yuna grabbed his hand and refused to leave, watching everything the nurses did to him with eyes on the verge of tears. Usoa went home, and went promptly to sleep. The students in the dorms were all whispering all the night about it.  
  
Sometime in the night, another student was brought in. He had started screaming in his sleep, and had had hysterics. The nurses calmed him down and made him comfortable, writing it off to pre-exam stress.  
  
How wrong they were. 


	5. Promise

Author's Note: Again, sorry about the weeeeird characters last time..maybe it's the site or maybe my computer's finally hauling back to kick the bucket (again).  
  
---***---  
  
Seymour drifted in and out of consciousness; when he was lucid, he saw things more as obscure shapes and colors than definite people or objects, heard more in plain noise than in real articulate sound. He saw the fluttering white ovals of the nurse-mages that worked in the infirmary; heard the deep notes of his father's voice but could not understand what they were saying. The other student (Seymour assumed the triangular lumps under the blazing white sheet-shape were their feet) occasionally cried out; people were clustered around him.  
  
He did not know that other student was Aubrey, and that the nurses worried about him because he was in perfect health. The only thing wrong with him was that his eyes had suddenly flooded black, so that when he opened his eyes it appeared as inky as the dead of night underwater during a new moon. In his dreams, Seymour would sink back into that darkness that had overtaken him in his room, perpetually clawing up the sides of the bottomless pit and always failing to regain level footing.  
  
Aubrey twisted the sheets around him; the nurse-mages placed cool hands on his and chanted softly; a bluish glow formed around him and he calmed. They left and hovered over Seymour a bit. Jyscal was sitting next to him, one hand supporting his chin and the other draped over the side of the chair. "Would you like something to drink, Lord Jyscal?" one of them asked.  
  
"No, thank you," he replied, and returned to contemplating his son. Seymour's fingers twitched, and his eyes moved rapidly under the blue- patterned lids. Jyscal watched all this.  
  
"What are you looking at, my son?" he whispered. "What can you see that I cannot?"  
  
---***---  
  
In his mind, Aubrey was pitting his wits against those of a superior being, and was slowly losing.  
  
"How dare you!" he screamed at the wisp of vapor that was the spirit Devali. "Blowing up a dormitory room! Why did you do such a thing?"  
  
The boy, the blue-haired one. He will become an issue in the future.  
  
Aubrey went into a sulking mood. "You could have asked me and I could have had my family hire a mercenary to pick him off."  
  
Devali ignored him. You forget who it is you owe your thanks to for even getting into this miserable school. You are nothing without my help, and I know you are well aware of that. Why else are you the top of your class? Do you honestly think you could do it on your own?  
  
Aubrey shifted (in the real world, he turned over onto his side). "Eliminating potential enemies-"  
  
Future enemies, you brat. The blue-haired one will be a problem in the future, and you must stop him before the destiny he is bound for is too far advanced. Already the hour grows late for us to stop him. It is truly a pity that the spell we used was not strong enough to do more than give him a sound concussion and break some of his bones.  
  
"I want no part in your father's scheming."  
  
Then I will just have to leave and seek a worthier host, will I not? Your family will not be pleased with you, I daresay.  
  
"You presume much, Devali."  
  
I presume nothing. Aubrey felt a psychic blast coming on and tensed up; the blast came, and Aubrey staggered back a pace before glaring back at the spirit now glowing an angry red. Seeing as you are now unconscious in your pathetic plane of existence, I believe I will go and consult my father on our next move. In the meantime, consider where your loyalties lie, Aubrey de Chaim Braeden. Remember, as high as my father and I can put you, that low can we make you fall.  
  
"Don't you run away from me!"  
  
But Devali was already gone. Aubrey closed his mind's eye and opened his real ones - now back to their normal icy blue. The nurse-mages who had come running when he'd twisted from the psychic blast backed away. He sat up.  
  
"Well, I feel all right," he said haughtily. "May I please leave?"  
  
The nurses backed away. One of them nodded tremulously. "Y-yes, Master Aubrey. You m-may."  
  
Aubrey swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood a little shakily, feeling Devali's absence acutely. It was indeed Devali that made him so intelligent and strong, but Aubrey knew he could do things on his own, and was going to go prove that to the (in his opinion) overly confident and arrogant demon.  
  
---***---  
  
Seymour finally woke up for good the next day. He found Yuna and his father at his side, and said hoarsely, "What happened?"  
  
Yuna began talking very fast, and Seymour had her repeat it several times before he got the whole story. Slumping back in the pillows, he muttered, "It was Aubrey."  
  
"Aubrey? Aubrey de Chaim Braeden? Nonsense, he is from a very noble family and he surely would not try to bring trouble to his family."  
  
"But Father," Seymour began earnestly, "It was-"  
  
Jyscal stood, the contemplative mood that had possessed him while his son was unconscious all but gone. "I think you hit your head harder than the nurse-mages thought, Seymour. I suggest you rest a little longer in the infirmary." With that, the Maester swept out of the room, the two guardians that always accompanied him following a pace behind. Seymour smiled weakly at Yuna, who was looking at the door that his father had left through with some trepidation.  
  
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "My Father is a Maester. I'm sure he's been under a lot of stress lately."  
  
Yuna climbed up onto the bed, using the chair as a step up. She flopped down next to Seymour, cuddling down into the hollow between his body and the wooden rail on the bed. "Mommy says once you take your exams you can come stay with us until Lord Jyscal tells you where to go."  
  
Seymour nodded in response. "I'd like that."  
  
---***---  
  
Seymour took his exit exams while still in the infirmary. Feeling that he at least managed a passing grade on the worst of them, he packed up what had survived the blast in his room and borrowed one of the chocobos from the Palace's stables.  
  
There seemed to be an awful amount of noise when he reached the city proper. People were dancing in the streets, singing, shouting, laughing, smiling. The whole mood was the opposite of what Seymour had come to know, which could only mean one thing.  
  
"No," he moaned, and tapped the chocobo's sides; the chocobo lunged forward, and plunged through the crowd of people now outside the mansion where Yuna lived. Shoving his way through, Seymour led the chocobo straight into the mansion and closed the door firmly. Running into the formal sitting room reserved for guests, he saw Usoa in tears, watching the sphere monitor that currently displayed the revelry in Bevelle, and all over Spira. A reporter was saying, ".and we owe our eternal thanks to Lord High Summoner Braska. Let us hope that this is the Eternal Calm, ladies and gentlemen!"  
  
Yuna was sitting on one of the cushioned chairs, looking extremely confused. A Ronso with a broken horn stood behind her chair, and his father was across from them. Jyscal looked up as Seymour entered the room. "Seymour-"  
  
Seymour wasn't listening. He ran over to Yuna and gave her a tight hug. She still looked a little confused when he released her. "My daddy...isn't coming home?" Usoa's sobs became more hysterical, and Jyscal patted her on the shoulder.  
  
Seymour, tears in his own eyes, knelt down to eye level and said, "No, Yuna, dear heart. He isn't coming home. He's defeated Sin, given his own life to it."  
  
Yuna started crying; Seymour held her against his chest until his father patted him on the shoulder and said, "Seymour, it's time to go."  
  
He stood, looking indignant. "Aren't we going to stay here and comfort-?"  
  
Jyscal shook his head. "You are going to the Temple. I have...plans for you."  
  
"Father, no!" Seymour looked back at Yuna, crying very quietly on her cushion, and Usoa sobbing her heart out. "Usoa's-"  
  
"It is not our place!" Jyscal's two guardians walked forward, standing behind Seymour. One placed his hand on Seymour's shoulder and pushed him forward. "We have much to do."  
  
Seymour cast a very serious look back at Yuna as he was pushed out of the mansion. "I'll come back, Yuna!" he said. "I promise." 


	6. The End of a Lifetime

Author's Note: Again, sorry about the looong wait. Lots of things stopped me.and then .hack//infection got in my way. Says who that game's not addicting? But anyway, I finally got new music! First I went to the Monterey Bay Aquarium and got "Aquaria" by Diane Arkenstone. Then for my birthday I got "El Cielo" by Dredg, a completely overlooked band struggling in the wake of the big names, and my mom got me the Final Fantasy X OST. So I'm now happy, and I have new music. Yay for Sephira-chan! Also, I changed my pen name. I'm Sephira Netzach now, and a tilde to anyone who discovers the deeper meaning. Oh, and the little ^ ^ mark off a thought.  
  
---***---  
  
Ten years after Braska defeated the calm, and his family was put in the spotlight, Yuna and Ariane stood together near where they used to live in Bevelle. Ariane was 11, almost 12, and had hardly had time to know her father before he left on his pilgrimage.  
  
Yuna knew she should be happy for her father - he had given what he desired the most. A safe place for his family. But he had gone off and proceeded to merrily turn her life upside-down. She hated to admit it to herself, but she was angry with her father. For running off and knowing he won't return, for leaving mom and Ariane and her, for not being there when she needed him, she thought he was the reason Seymour -  
  
Yuna cut that thought off. It would not do to remember such painful memories, especially when she was following in his footsteps and becoming a summoner; she was going to pray to the fayth of Besaid Temple tomorrow. ^ I've turned into such a hypocrite. I want the OLD me back.^ Of course, Yuna knew she couldn't show the old Yuna, the one that had gone to Midwinter Festivals with a young man who was now officially ordained as Maester. Seymour had written to her a few times over the intervening years - he was always so busy, it seemed. She'd noticed a slow change in him, too. He had become more bitter, turned in on himself and let the emotional wounds from his childhood fester.  
  
And she blamed it on her father.  
  
If her father hadn't gone on his pilgrimage..if he'd just stayed home..her family wouldn't have been in the spotlight because of his death and Seymour wouldn't have been the angry person he was now. He would be like he was when she knew him in the Palace School.  
  
Ariane stopped the squealing she was doing at the view from the monument on the cliff overlooking Besaid and looked up at her older sister. "You're thinking about Maester Seymour, aren't you?"  
  
Yuna looked down at her younger sister, surprised. "Why, yes. How did you know?"  
  
Ariane looked back out over the town, quiet for now. "You always look sad." She scrunched up her nose. "I can remember him a little. I remember pulling his hair."  
  
Yuna smiled. "You might not remember, but he got you into your coat when we went to the Midwinter Festival the year Fath-" she stopped. Ariane picked up the end of the sentence.  
  
"The year Father left." She gave her older sister a smile. "Let's change the subject. Are you nervous?"  
  
Yuna knew all too well what her sister was referring to - the fact that she would be going to the Temple tomorrow not as a mere acolyte, but as an apprentice summoner, and if she were to be successful, a full summoner. Lulu and Kimahri would be accompanying her; Wakka was training the Besaid Aurochs. She would remember to pray for their victory, as she had the past ten years. "Yes, sister, I'm nervous."  
  
Ariane looked out over the ocean. "And I'm off to Kilika tomorrow."  
  
"I wish you would have stayed and become one of my Guardians - "  
  
"But Kadessa needs the help. C'mon, sis, she's got two half-grown children and a baby. She needs time off."  
  
Yuna sighed and ran a hand through her mousy brown hair. "I know, Ariane. This is just the first time we've been separated in ten years. I'm worried about you."  
  
Ariane put a hand on her hip and waved the other about. "Whatever, Yuna. You know I just want to be in my own limelight when you get the attention here for becoming a summoner. I don't want any, I'm perfectly happy with what I have."  
  
"So mature for almost 12."  
  
"I get it from you, sis."  
  
Laughing, the two raced back down to the village.  
  
---***---  
  
A little sad and worried, Yuna waved to Ariane as she set off on board the S.S. Winno, the ferry that made the trip back and forth between Kilika and Besaid. Ariane waved back, her hair up in a bandanna, wearing the loose- fitting clothing of the islander.  
  
"Good luck, sis!" Yuna heard Ariane call. Yuna responded in kind before turning back towards the trail up to the village. Climbing this cliff was no problem for her now; normally she would have dove into the lagoon and spent her morning swimming lazily around, but she had to be at the temple before noontime. Lulu and Kimahri were probably already waiting.  
  
She enjoyed the walk through the tropical forest, down the slopes that sheltered Besaid, and the short walk through the little cluster of huts. The temple gleamed ahead of her, majestic, invitingly forbidding. A little shiver went up her spine. ^ This is your lot,^ it seemed to say, ^ This is your story. ^  
  
---***---  
  
The next two days were all a bit fuzzy to her; she remembered passing the Cloister with Lulu and Kimahri and somewhat hesitantly entering the Chamber of the Fayth..the next day or so was hazy. It was now night, and she was going to leave for Kilika tomorrow morning; she lay on the beach between Lulu and Wakka and stared up at the night sky.  
  
The Fayth of Valefor spoke comforting thoughts in her mind. ^ You will be great, Dreamer, ^ the feminine voice that was the aeon said.  
  
^ Dreamer? ^ Yuna thought.  
  
^ It is what we call Summoners. You will find out. All in due time, Yuna. ^  
  
The Fayth was silent then, and Yuna took it as a sign she should go to sleep. Standing and dusting her blue embroidered skirt off, she said, "I'm going to bed." And started towards the temple.  
  
She passed the handsome blond man that had barged in with Wakka. She vaguely remembered him trying to rush forward to grab her when she stumbled on the steps in her fatigue. And she remembered the disappointment in his eyes when Kimahri got to her first. Yuna paused a moment to look at him, sleeping, his hands locked behind his head. He was rather handsome, albeit dressed very strangely. She shook her head and continued into the Temple, and to sleep. 


End file.
